


Lunar Secrets

by Trashland (Destieltrashland)



Series: Bad Moon Rising [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Established Relationship, Gen, Werewolf Castiel, Werewolf Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 21:43:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10228124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destieltrashland/pseuds/Trashland
Summary: “Sammy?” Dean called through the door. His voice sounded strained.“Surprise!”Dean shuffled on the other side of the door and Cas’ grumble sounded again.“Sammy, I’m glad you’re here, man but you gotta go.”“What?” Dean let out a small groan and Sam furrowed his brow. “Dean?”“Yeah. Yeah I’m here.” His voice was hoarse. “I can’t explain-“ his words were cut off by a pained moan. Sam leaned closer to the wood. “Can’t explain now but you gotta leave, Sam. Go to Bobby’s”“What going on?” Sam rattled the doorknob again.“It’s fine. Just go!” Dean’s voice was different now, higher and tinged with something raw. Sam felt panic welling up in his chest.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Time stamp for Bad Moon Rising/Under the Snow Moon
> 
> Big thanks to [LizDarcy83](http://archiveofourown.org/users/lizdarcy83) for helping me with this one. Couldn't have done it without you!

Sam knocked on the front door and stomped the snow off his boots, huddling further into his jacket. California had certainly lowered his tolerance for the cold, he thought. He watched his breath fog the air while he waited. He hoped Dean would be as excited to see him as he was at the prospect of seeing his brother. He’d been planning this trip, unbeknownst to anyone but Jess, for two months now. Last month, when Dean had called him drunk and upset, he’d almost spilled the news but luckily he’d held it together. Also luckily, the two of them had managed to work out their issue and were back to being the second most disgustingly happy couple Sam knew (himself and Jess included). 

He knocked again, his knuckles rapping soundly on the wood. Bruce barked once and Sam could hear his nails clicking as he ran to the door. 

They were home; Dean’s truck was in the driveway and Cas’ continental was parked right next to it. When he drove up, he’d seen the kitchen windows glowing warmly in the twilight. _What was taking so long?_ He wondered and then grimaced. He really _really_ hoped he wasn’t interrupting something private. He probably should have called when he was leaving the airport. 

He waited another minute and then headed around the side of the house. He fumbled inside his bag for his keys and grinned when he found them buried at the bottom of a pocket. The spare key Dean had given him years ago still fit and he opened the door with a soft click. The house was warm and he felt his cheeks and nose tingling as soon as he stepped inside. Bruce did a small spin before stopping to sniff at his jeans. 

The kitchen was clean and homey. Dean had always loved to cook and it made Sam happy to imagine him in this space. He could see touches of Dean throughout the house but they were especially apparent in this room. There was a small framed picture of their mother on the breakfast bar, a pie stand covered with a glass dome by the oven, and a KISS the cook apron emblazoned with the band’s logo hung in the pantry. 

“Guys?” Sam called. “Dean? Cas? I hope everybody has pants on!” 

He stripped off his coat and scarf, laying them over the back of a kitchen barstool even though Dean would probably complain about it later. 

He walked around the house, peeking into rooms, but didn’t find anyone. The lights in every other room were off and Sam began to wonder if the couple had left with a friend. 

He was headed back into the kitchen to get his phone out of his jacket when he heard it; noises, maybe even voices, coming from the basement. He pressed his ear to the door and heard the noises again, definitely voices. He could almost pick out his brothers slight drawl and Cas’ deeper rumble. He tried the handle but the door was locked. 

He knocked. “Dean?” 

The voices stopped. Sam knocked again. “Dean? Cas?”

A shuffle and hushed conversation, then he heard the slap of bare feet on the concrete steps. 

“Sammy?” Dean called through the door. His voice sounded strained. 

“Surprise!” 

Dean shuffled on the other side of the door and Cas’ grumble sounded again. 

“Sammy, I’m glad you’re here, man but you gotta go.”

“What?” Dean let out a small groan and Sam furrowed his brow. “Dean?”

“Yeah. Yeah I’m here.” His voice was hoarse. “I can’t explain-“ his words were cut off by a pained moan. Sam leaned closer to the wood. “Can’t explain now but you gotta leave, Sam. Go to Bobby’s”

“What going on?” Sam rattled the doorknob again. 

“It’s fine. Just go!” Dean’s voice was different now, higher and tinged with something raw. Sam felt panic welling up in his chest. 

“Let me in, Dean. I wanna see that you’re ok and then I’ll go.” He said, trying to sound firm. 

“Can’t.” Dean growled. “Just go!” 

Sam glanced around the room, thinking. “Either you open this door or I will! You know I can, Dean.” 

“Get out, Sam!” Dean’s voice was gruff and full of fear this time. 

Sam went into the kitchen and started pulling out drawers. When he found the junk drawer (every kitchen has one, even one as orderly as Dean’s) he dumped it out on the counter. Tacks, coins, and other small items showered off the edge as Sam sifted his hands through. In no time, he found a large paperclip and a small flat head screwdriver and grabbed them both. 

Picking the lock wasn’t nearly as easy as he remembered it being when they were kids. Behind the door he heard movement and more groans; occasionally Dean said his name. After a frustrating five minutes, the lock finally clicked and he slowly worked the deadbolt open. He tried the knob but the door didn’t budge. 

“Dean!” he yelled again. Then he remembered the slide lock. He sighed heavily and braced himself, taking a step back before slamming his shoulder into the door. It hurt but the door did wiggle in the frame. He tried it again. His heart was racing at this point, his breath coming fast. The third time he heard the frame splinter. 

Inside, the talk had stopped but he could still hear strange noises. Someone cried out just as he knocked the door open with one more forceful shove. 

At first, he didn’t know what he was looking at. A shape huddled at the bottom of the stairs underneath a navy blue comforter. The shape was moving, shifting and rolling. 

“Dean?” he said. His voice sounded small in the stairwell and he wondered if it was loud enough. Behind him, Bruce whimpered and butted at his legs. 

The shape moved again, the blanket shifting and a hand shot out. It was Dean’s; he would know those scarred knuckles anywhere, only it didn’t look exactly right. The fingers were misshapen somehow, too long in places. Unnatural. 

He took a cautious step inside. Dean moved again, the blanket shifting, and his forearm came into view. The tendons were pulled taut, the muscles flexed and bulging. And then it started to grow hair. Right before his eyes, soft looking at first and then longer and courser; the hair covered his arm, ran down to his hand and across his fingers. Fingers that were definitely broken or twisted. They looked shorter now, stunted. Sam’s mouth fell open as he watched in muted horror. 

“Dean?” he said again, without thinking. 

Dean moved, the blanket falling away and his face peered out. Only it wasn’t his face. His mouth was elongated, the bones prominent and _moving_ under his skin! Sam’s heart was racing, his breath coming in gasping lungfuls. Their eyes met. 

Sam ran.

\---------------------

Dean woke up gasping, his mind screaming; _Sam_. He scrambled out of the blanket covering him and sat up. His stomach rolled and he had to shut his eyes and breathe until it settled once more. 

When he opened his eyes again, the first thing he noticed was Cas curled up on his side, Bruce flanking him. The next thing he noticed was that they were not in the basement. He glanced around in confusion at the familiar space of their bedroom. All of the sheets, blankets, and pillows on the bed had been dragged into the middle and made into a nest for the three of them. On the floor, Dean could see his and Cas’ clothes, some torn, strewn all the way out the bedroom door and into the hallway. 

He rubbed his hands down his face and sighed. 

Sam. Sam had shown up, a surprise visit, and then he’d – Dean’s stomach rolled again and he fell out of the bed, crawling his way into the bathroom on all fours. The floor was wet, the toilet seat covered in water, but Dean barely registered it as he leaned over the bowl and vomited. His stomach clenched in waves and he groaned softly as his sore muscles protested the movement. 

Sam’s eyes had been full of confusion and fear. Dean had never meant for him to find out this way – to see what he’d become. Dean couldn’t imagine what Sam was feeling right now or what he would do when they saw each other. He laid his forehead on one of his arms and tried to breathe. His mouth tasted bitter and acidic; he wanted water but didn’t think he could stand yet. 

Minutes later, cool fingertips caressed the back of his neck. A steady hand passed him a glass of water and he drank it, swishing his mouth out and spitting into the bowl. Tears left hot trails down his cheeks and he sighed heavily. 

“What am I gonna do?” he said. 

Cas’ hand tightened on his neck, rubbing at the tension there. 

“Finish that water and then wash your face and come back to bed.” 

Dean did as he was asked. Cas stood behind him at the sink, one arm wrapped around his waist, his lips soft against his shoulders. 

When they climbed back into the bed Bruce was gone. Cas pulled him close, one hand cupping the back of his head and holding him against his chest. His lithe fingers scratched through Dean’s hair and sent little shivers down his spine. 

“It’s going to be fine, Dean.” He said. He pressed a kiss into the top of Dean’s head and Dean nuzzled closer to him. 

“How? How is this going to be fine? He saw, Cas. He saw me – like that.” He huffed out a breath. “You know what it was like, we both saw the video. Imagine if you didn’t know any of this was real and then you saw your brother –“ 

He didn’t realize he was trembling until Cas shushed him, pulling him impossibly closer and rubbing a soothing hand down his side.   
“Sam loves you. He loves you and this is not going to change that. I’ll admit, seeing you changing was probably not the ideal way for him to find out but there is nothing we can do about that now. Let’s rest a bit longer, get some breakfast, and then go find him, ok? I’ll be with you every step of the way.” 

Dean sighed. He looked up and locked eyes with Cas, seeing nothing but sincerity and love there. Cas leaned down and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

Dean couldn’t fall back asleep, every time he started to drift he would see Sam’s face; his startled and fearful expression, and he would jerk awake. He leaned closer to Cas, breathing in the scent of his skin. He smelled like sweat and hints of his body wash, spicy and masculine. The scent grounded him. Cas was his home now, his family, and that knowledge helped relax him some. Whatever happened today, Cas would be there. 

About an hour later, Cas stirred. He yawned wide and rubbed at his eyes. 

“Did you sleep at all?” 

Dean shook his head. Cas sighed and bent down for a kiss. It was soft and chaste but Dean felt it run through him all the same. 

They each pulled on jeans and a t-shirt before heading out of the room. The hallway was a mess of clothing and throw blankets. The living room couch had a hole in one cushion, yellow and white foam spewing out of it in tufts. A lamp was broken on the floor along with a glass that someone must have left on the side table; a splash of something sticky and brown spread out from the shards. The dog bed that normally stayed in Bruce’s kennel was out and had a hole in it as well. The floor was covered in more blankets, obviously dragged up from the basement. 

The floor of the hall bathroom was splashed with water and the toilet seat was hanging on by one hinge. The back door had long, deep scratch marks down it. Dean shook his head as he ran his fingers over the grooves. One of the kitchen chairs was on its side, one leg splintered and full of teeth marks. The kitchen itself was relatively unscathed, although a loaf of bread that had been on the counter was missing and a glass was broken in the sink. 

They ignored the mess as they picked their way across the house. Cas made coffee while Dean worked on breakfast; the silence that surrounded them was comfortable. Dean inspected the basement door, finding the door frame broken, like he’d remembered it. The door must have come open and let the wolves into the house. 

He hoped Jody didn’t get any more noise complaints last night. 

Breakfast was a quiet affair. Dean felt tense, his shoulders stiff and neck muscles tight. Cas hooked an ankle around his and scooted his stool close so that their thighs were touching. The contact helped. 

“Where do you think he went?” Cas said as he poured his second cup of coffee. 

“Bobby’s probably. Maybe Ellen’s, but she’d ask him questions.” 

Cas made an affirmative noise. “Whenever you’re ready.” He said. 

Dean would never be ready. 

Eventually he made himself get up from the stool and finish getting dressed. 

\----------

Bobby pulled him into a hug as soon as they stepped onto the porch. 

“Morning.” He said, looking them both up and down. “You look like hell.” 

Dean rolled his eyes fondly. “Did Sammy show up here last night?” 

“Sure did. You two get in a fight or something? Boy looked like he’d seen a ghost but wouldn’t tell me what happened. Went straight up to the room. He’s been out in the yard all morning, kicking tires or shooting cans or something.” 

Dean nodded and rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. “Let’s get this over with.” He said. Bobby eyed him but didn’t say anything else as Cas took his hand and they headed out into the scrapyard. 

Dean had always loved the place; the bodies of discarded cars and trucks, piles of scrap parts, and towers of sheet metal intrigued him. As a kid, it had been the place where he could let his imagination run wild. 

It didn’t take long to find Sam; the pinging of cans led them in the right direction. Sam had a rifle balanced against one shoulder, the line of cans on the roof of an old Ford Taurus falling steadily under his assault. 

Dean waited until he lowered the gun and then cleared his throat. “Sam?”

He could see Sam’s shoulders tense, lifting slightly and when he turned, his eyes were wide and unreadable. “Dean?”

Dean stared at him, unsure of what to say next. His heart was pounding in his chest. 

“Is that- Are you, you?” Sam asked. Dean could see fear in the lines around his eyes and the furrow of his brow. It felt like a punch in the stomach. 

“Yeah, Sammy. It’s me. I’m me.” He said, imploring. 

Sam watched him closely, his eyes darting between Dean and Cas. 

“Was it real?” he finally said. His voice was soft, hushed with concern. 

Dean nodded. 

Sam ran his fingers through his hair, letting a harsh breath out between pursed lips. 

“I thought I was losing it. I thought –“ he shook his head. “What the hell, Dean? What was that? How are you ok right now? And Cas-“

“It’s a long story.” 

“Tell me.” 

Dean sighed. “You remember when I got bit, when I met Cas?” 

Sam nodded. 

“What he told me in the diner – well, it turns out, he was telling the truth.” Dean said.

The silence that followed was heavy as Sam considered the statement. Dean waited. His heart ached for his brother and he wished he could have done this whole thing differently. He felt fear clawing at his insides; fear that Sam wouldn’t believe him, fear that Sam wouldn’t want anything to do with him. Cas squeezed his fingers and Dean let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. 

“So you’re, what, a werewolf?” Sam’s voice cracked on the last word. 

“Yeah.” Dean said. 

“Yes” Cas added. 

“How?” 

“Cas’ bite, dude. You get bit by one, you become one – it’s just how it works. Magic or whatever.”

Sam looked over at Cas, whose eyes were downcast. 

“I didn’t mean for it to happen, it truly was an accident, Sam.” He said. “It’s why I sought Dean out afterwards. I wanted to help him, to teach him.” 

“Wow.” Sam said. He scrubbed a hand down his face. “So you’re one too? And Gabe?” 

“Yes. My whole family has been for many generations now. We were born this way.” 

“Wait – so you can be born a werewolf too?”

Cas nodded. 

Dean could see the wheels inside Sam’s head turning, could see his confusion turning into something else; curiosity. Hope burned inside him. Maybe it really would be ok. 

“Are there a lot of you?”

“I’m not sure. No one has ever taken a count that I know of. In my family there are seven, counting Dean.”

Dean felt a burst of warmth in his chest, like he always did when Cas referred to him as family.

“And there’s no cure?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“And you, uh, change every full moon?” 

“Yes.”

“Wow. So, what’s it feel like? Does it hurt?”

Dean felt relief wash over him as he watched the exchange. Sam’s face was rapidly filling with enthusiasm. 

“Hell yeah it hurts.” Dean said. “Sucks the next day too. Makes you sore all over and it does a number on your stomach.”

“I bet. It looked-“

“Yeah, man. I’ve seen it and it ain’t pretty.” Dean paused. “I’m sorry you had to.” 

Sam looked down. He kicked at the slushy snow and dirt. “Yeah well, I did kind of take your door down.” 

Dean snorted. “Yeah, you did. I’m the one who turns into an animal and you’re the one breaking stuff.”

Sam glared at him. “You didn’t sound right and you wouldn’t tell me why! I got worried.” 

“What was I supposed to say, Sam? Go to Bobby’s cause Cas and I are turning into wolves down here?” 

Sam cracked a small smile. “Yeah, that probably wouldn’t have worked either.” 

“Damn wolves tore up the house cause of your little door stunt.” Dean grumbled but there was no heat in it. 

Sam’s eyes widened. 

“They are somewhat like dogs. When they get bored, they can be destructive.” Cas said. He shrugged and Dean could see the hint of a smile on his lips. 

Dean swallowed hard, a small ball of anxiety still hovering in his throat. “So, uh, are we, ok?” he asked. 

Sam rolled his eyes and took the few steps to cross the distance between them. He wrapped Dean up in his arms, one large hand gripping Dean’s shoulder. 

“Yeah. If you’re fine – we’re fine, dude.” He said as they broke apart. “Although, I still have a bunch of questions.” 

“Of course you do nerd.”


End file.
